Combat
by Dufferooni
Summary: #6 in my 100 Themes Challenge. "You don't play with tactics, Dean, you button-mash," Sam huffed, his bulk landing back on the couch again with a muffled thump.


_A/N:__ Thanks very much to LeighAnnWallace for always dropping me a line. :) Very, very appreciated. This one goes out to you._

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, nor do I own Mortal Kombat or any of it's characters. I don't own Nintendo either. If I did, I would have a lifesize Link with me ALWAYS. He's so adorable. **_

**6. Combat**

Much crunching and swearing echoed from the lounge room and to Bobby's ears as the old and wizened hunter flipped a page of the very old, very hard to translate book in front of him. Ancient Japanese was a bastard for him to always get through but it wasn't like there was anything going on today, oddly enough.

Usually there was something awful knocking at their door, kicking in the windows or ripping up the carpeting but today seemed like a public day off for monsters as there just wasn't anything showing up on any of the many, many tendrils the three hunters had out. Even the Leviathans seemed quiet and at peace with the Earth right now which made Bobby's neck creep but there was nothing to be done, so instead he sat around translating ancient languages to the best of his ability and listening to the two boys do whatever it was they were doing. It involved a lot of shouting and disrespect for someone called Sub-Zero's mother.

"Dean, stop- you- GAH! Why do you always cheat," Sam's voice echoed out to him, strained with emotion and whiney little brother-ness that made Bobby's lips lift in a smirk. There followed the sound of gigantic but socked feet moving into the kitchen and to the fridge to obviously get another beer.

"Hey, I don't cheat, I play with tactics and hard work," Dean replied, his voice so smug and almost patronizing that the bitch-face Bobby was sure the older Winchester had just received was text-book.

"You don't play with tactics, Dean, you button-mash," Sam huffed, his bulk landing back on the couch again with a muffled thump. Spluttering noises echoed out to him this time and Bobby paused his reading to just listen to them.

"I don't button-mash at all, you just try too hard to get combinations right," Dean retaliated, a snotty tone to his voice. "Next one to lose gets the other another beer."

"You're on," Sam grumped. A moment later the sounds of the game they were playing echoed back to Bobby again, the crunching of the controllers and the grunts, groans, swearing and sharp thwacks of fists hitting flesh reminding him of when the boys would stay here whilst John was on a hunt. In an attempt to be kind to the boys – like he'd always tried to be – he had bought them a Super Nintendo along with a few game cartridges.

Most were broken now aside from the one the two had decided to dig out and have a game of at the moment. It had been an expensive present for the boys who had been humbled by the gift but it had always remained a pure secret between the three of them and John had never found out about it. The grouchy Father of the two had never taken too kindly to Bobby being more of a parent to his boys than he was.

Then Bobby had chased John away with a shotgun and for years the SuperNES had sat idle in a box, packed away in the attic until one day a few months ago, Dean had remembered it and dragged it out only to zoom off after Cas and drag a slowly spinning out Sam with him. After that, times had either been too busy, too miserable or too full of broke-in-the-head-baby-brother for Dean to play any games. Today was a perfect day though as rain poured down outside, lightly pattering against the windows and creating the perfect ambience to play a nice round of video games.

A few choice things had been saved from Bobby's house - just barely - and though the SuperNES was charred and a little melted in spots, it still worked just fine. Something must have protected it from the intense blaze as the game cartridge was still in... semi-reasonable nick.

"Damn it, Dean, stop using that stupid kick combo," Sam shouted, clicking violently. The sound of a fist hitting a solid shoulder followed the yell.

"Stop being such a damn princess and figure out how to fight back," Dean growled, this time the sound of a foot clomping down on another foot sounded.

"Ouch, you jerk!"

"Bitch."

"Quit it, Dean, that isn't funny- let go of my controller!"

"Nope, I'm winning with ease now."

"You're so immature, give it!"

"Nope."

"Dean, give me the controller back you-GUH!" A loud thump followed the argument followed by many grunts, thumps and the sound of a beer bottle rolling along the floor. Bobby sighed and had to shake his head, obviously the two were rolling around in a wrestling match over the damn controller again. One of these days that damn thing was going to break from one of their feet kicking it and by damn was Bobby going to leave it at that and never again buy them a new one.

Idjits.

**End**

_A/N:__ Thanks for reading. :) _


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